The Rowan

by Anne McCaffrey

  ‘Primes tend to be,’ Elizara said more mildly, ‘it’s a hazard of the profession. And you mustn’t change your responses to him. He’d be annoyed with me for even suggesting that there were chinks in his shield. But I’m a match for him. As you two are. And you, Isthia, are far stronger than I first thought.’

  Isthia had been watching Elizara’s face intently. Now she shrugged noncommittally. ‘Deneb is my future. But I am interested in these insights on the formidable Earth Prime.’ Her voice ended on an upward note.

  Elizara gave a brief warning flick of her hand. ‘Enough of banter. Let’s move some of these flowers out of this room. Too many is just too many for newborn lungs.’

  ‘Not to mention the air conditioning units in this part of the dome,’ Jeff said.

  ‘You know, it was really rather sweet of him,’ the Rowan murmured sleepily. And by the time the transfer was finished, she was fast asleep, one arm curled protectively about her son.

  ‘He’s rather a good baby, as babies go,’ Isthia remarked several days later when she was making her farewells. ‘I didn’t think I’d miss Ian, but I do. And I’ve wallowed in luxury far too long.’ She ignored her son’s snicker and laid her hand on her sleeping grandson’s forehead. ‘He’ll be a handful, Rowan, but you’ve started out right.’

  ‘Thanks to you, Isthia,’ and the Rowan’s voice and mind were deep with gratitude.

  Isthia gave her an understanding smile. ‘I stood in loco parentis, my dear, and we both know it. Nonetheless I was flattered.’ She bent over and kissed the Rowan’s cheek. ‘Such a bit of a thing!’ And quickly left the room.

  The Rowan’s farewell wishes followed her personal capsule all the way back to Deneb. Elizara stayed on another few days, to be sure the Rowan had completely recovered physically as the delivery had been strenuous despite its brevity.

  ‘I’m telling Reidinger in no uncertain terms,’ Elizara said as she, too, prepared to leave the new family, ‘that you are to be on maternity leave until I approve your return to work. He’ll growl and rage but I won’t budge an inch. He loves it when someone stands up to him. You don’t know how delighted he was when you popped in on him.’

  ‘I’d never have known,’ the Rowan replied drolly.

  ‘Besides, he’s not about to risk his pet Prime.’

  ‘I dislike being considered a “pet” anything,’ the Rowan responded tartly. She was nursing Jeran and her expression was singularly at odds with her voice.

  ‘I’ll remind him,’ Elizara replied mildly. ‘You’re a good mother, too,’ she added. ‘That will please him more,’ and she grinned as that brought a sharp glare from the Rowan. ‘You are, you know. It comes naturally.’ Then she frowned slightly. ‘Who is Purza? Your mother?’

  The Rowan stared at her. ‘Will she never stop haunting me?’

  ‘She wasn’t haunting,’ Elizara replied, pausing to consider her next words. ‘She’s far too happy.’

  ‘Purza,’ the Rowan said with some asperity, ‘was what I called the pukha they gave me on Altair.’

  Elizara raised her eyebrows slightly. ‘She’s been more than that, Rowan.’ She smiled gently. ‘And right now, she’s proud and happy for you, that alter ego of yours. As you are proud and happy after a very long road to find such emotions.’

  ‘My alter ego is a pukha?’

  ‘Why not?’ Again that slightly mischievous grin curved Elizara’s lips. ‘It was very cleverly and ingeniously programmed, you know.’ She laid a reassuring hand on the Rowan’s shoulder and with the tactile contact more of Elizara’s professional approval flowed through to the Rowan’s mind. ‘Purza’s physical form was destroyed by that arrogant little bouzma but you never really lost her.’ She gathered up her things. ‘Remember now, I’m only a thought away and I will be open to you at any time.’

  With parents so closely in contact with Jeran’s needs, he made excellent progress and was rarely troublesome without an easily discernible reason. The children in Callisto Dome were as entranced with him as the adults. The Rowan recovered her energy while Jeff twitted her about her ‘maternal’ curves.

  When Elizara arrived back at Callisto Dome for the six weeks’ postnatal check, she pronounced both mother and son in excellent health.

  However, no sooner was the Rowan back in the Tower, Jeran in a carrier by her couch, than Reidinger sent for Jeff.

  ‘That’s mean!’ the Rowan complained, pacing up and down. ‘Your son needs your presence. I need your presence. I don’t care what Elizara said, he’s got no right to break up our family unit.’

  ‘Sweetheart, we don’t know that that’s his intention,’ Jeff replied.

  She caught his not quite suppressed thought. ‘You! You like whizzing about, oozing charm over everyone! Traipsing about the galaxy like a … a …’

  ‘Trapeze artist?’ Jeff suggested mildly, not the least bit ashamed of his inclinations. ‘And you can’t fool me that you like someone else, even me, managing your Tower. Callisto is your bailiwick: it works more efficiently with your mindset than anyone else’s.’

  She eyed him. ‘Now, wait a minute, Jeff Raven, don’t try those tactics on me!’

  ‘The last person in the world I can fool,’ and he held out his arms to her. We don’t stay angry with each other, love. We know each other far too well. He fitted his body to hers, her head under his chin and reassured her with every fiber of his being. ‘Besides, I’m curious as to what Reidinger has in mind for me now. I’ve been everywhere else and even I know that Central Worlds isn’t planning to install a new Tower any time soon.’

  Faced with the inevitable, she lifted his capsule and thrust it efficiently toward Earth and, with a sigh, went back to work.

  Jeff was absolutely correct about Callisto being her Tower. Being Altairian Prime had been a subtle victory and she had enjoyed working with old friends, and using her new awareness to facilitate a blending of the Talent required to operate such a major way point. But Callisto was hers, her home, where she had met and loved Jeff, and where their son had been born. The Tower personnel were an integrated team that had survived all her early foolishness and she now realized they had become the family she had lost. Afra was more younger brother than colleague. He honestly found Jeran an enchanting child which only reinforced her good opinion of him.

  Live stuff coming in, Afra’s thought broke through her musing and instantly she caught the large personnel carrier as it arced up from Earth Prime.

  Hi, honey, and Jeff’s mind, the initiating kinetic, met hers. Breeding animals for Deneb! We got a bonus: maternity and paternity. FT&T policy, so don’t raise your hackles. I just blew all mine to restock the farm. I’ll be home tonight.

  She could hear that he had something of momentous proportions to tell her. It was a long day for her, part of it waiting, part of it attending to Jeran’s needs, but most of it wondering what sort of an assignment Reidinger was now laying on Jeff. She’d be willing even to leave Callisto but she had to be with Jeff.

  You will be, love! His quick thought answered her. His mind resounded with elation.

  The Rowan was nursing Jeran when Jeff arrived back so surreptitiously that she didn’t hear him until she felt his presence behind her. Jeran let out a frightened squeak. Then Jeff opened up the blaze of his exultation and his son’s eyes grew as round as his mother’s as the import of Jeff’s news clarified.

  ‘Earth Prime!’

  ‘Shhh! Everyone’ll hear you,’ Jeff said, sliding on to the bed beside her and kissing her neck.

  ‘You mean, everyone’ll hear you!’ Then she absorbed the implications. ‘Earth Prime? Reidinger’s Earth Prime.’

  Sadness tinged Jeff’s face and mind. ‘Mother caught it from Elizara. We were too involved with Jeran here to notice. Did you realize that Reidinger is 110?’

  ‘Oh!’

  Jeff nodded. ‘Precisely!’ And he opened his mind to all that had occurred during that momentous interview in Reidinger’s spacious hidden office in the FT&T Cube. How desp
erately Reidinger yearned to retire and enjoy a few years free of the stresses of such high position: a desire made more urgent after Siglen’s demise for Reidinger was very much aware that his mind faltered from time to time out of sheer fatigue and the debilities of his advanced age. Yet he could not relinquish command to an unsuitable personality.

  It would have been me? The Rowan said, shrinking from the very notion of such onerous responsibility. Patently Jeff regarded it as a magnificent challenge.

  Sorry to do you out of it, love … He grinned, knowing the depths of her relief. Idly he reached out to let Jeran’s fist curl around his fingers, his expression dotingly tender for an omnipotent Prime-elect. Up until my call for help, you were being subtly groomed for the job. David certainly wasn’t capable, much less Capella. When I think what I can now do for Deneb …

  ‘For Deneb?’ the Rowan echoed, startled. Then she began to laugh, loving him more devotedly than ever for that altruistic consideration. Small wonder he had become Reidinger’s choice.

  Jeff nodded, his brilliant blue eyes twinkling with delight in her appreciation. It simply isn’t on for Earth Prime’s native world to be second-rate, now is it?

  You demanded a Denebian Tower as a condition?

  Lover, and Jeff stretched out on the bed, punched a pillow comfortably behind his head, I could have demanded the moons of the solar system on a diamond chain and had them. As you well understand, Central Worlds has to have the best Talent as it’s Prime. His grin was particularly arch. I don’t think I was greedy or particularly difficult. But Deneb will have a Tower. You cobbled together the basic facilities: we’ll improve them and send in teachers and assessors. Rakella’s oldest boy bids fair to develop into a reasonable Prime. That is, until Jeran here is old enough to take over …

  The Rowan curled her arms protectively about her son. ‘My baby’s not going to be marooned on Deneb! You said you wouldn’t let him be indentured to FT&T.’

  Jeff flipped over on his side, stroking her cheek to reduce her wrath, grinning in a fashion that she could never resist.

  ‘Love, the whole game plan just changed, in our favor. It’ll be quite another matter if our children end up running FT&T, now won’t it? We’ll raise ’em the way Primes should be reared, in a large and loving family. None of them will have to make do with a pukha. Not while we live! We’re a team, love, with strengths and resources not given to many. We’ll make the best possible use of our Talents.’ His expression was both entreating and serious. ‘On that score, let us have a meeting of minds.’

  Loving him as she did, that is exactly what they had.

  Jeran was a hearty six months old when the Rowan conceived again. She was amazed to be roundly scolded by everyone.

  ‘It’s my body!’ was her response. ‘I feel fine so stop fussing at me.’

  Despite his increasing frailty, Reidinger’s voice was not off a decibel in full bellow as he let her know in no uncertain terms that he considered she was putting both herself and the new child at risk by becoming pregnant so soon.

  Reidinger, you will butt out of my private life. You are the last person who should have objections! she responded in icy tones. You made it abundantly clear to Jeff by the tonne on the hoof how much you appreciated Jeran. What’s your gripe?

  I will not have my best Prime …

  The Rowan laughed heartily and without a tinge of jealousy. Do get your facts straight, old dear. You told Jeff that HE was your best Prime.

  DON’T YOU DARE INTERRUPT ME …

  No, I shouldn’t, should I? the Rowan replied meekly. It’s sooooo bad for your blood pressure or heart or lungs or cranium or whatever. So you be a good boy and take some of that tonic and mind your Tower. While you still can …

  She felt him gathering himself for another blast and then suddenly, he was silent. For a heart-stopping moment, the Rowan wondered if she had gone too far.

  No, I told him it was our business, Jeff reassured her, and then went on in another mental tone entirely, but even Mother gave herself a year between pregnancies.

  The Rowan, rather too sweetly: I thought you wanted to come home tonight to your loving wife and adoring son?

  There was another pause. I will be home and I will discuss it with you.

  Another of those times, the Rowan thought to herself testily, when a man thinks he knows more about maternity than someone who has borne a child. So she decided just how to handle him this evening before he could handle her.

  She hadn’t meant to get pregnant again so soon, but Reidinger dispatched Jeff to check on this or that Terran installation, or to the Moon, and then the big Mars substation, and the more important Asteroid Wheels. Jeff had to be introduced to all the Governors as well as the more important members of the Nine-Star League. Consequently, when he was on Callisto, they tended to make up for opportunities lost.

  ‘I’ve had to sit through some of the dreariest meetings,’ he told her wearily. ‘It ought to be a prerequisite to high government office that the incumbent be at least a T-4. That would halve the time spent in politicking and correctly aligning power balances.’

  ‘I didn’t realize that Reidinger had to deal with that kind of administrative nonsense,’ the Rowan said. ‘No wonder the man is aged before his time.’

  ‘Oh, that isn’t part of the FT&T Prime’s function but as heir apparent, I have to be displayed to all those who worry about leaving FT&T autonomous. I’ve got to be shown to be the right sort of stuff and all that. As it is, not all the League Ambassadors are convinced that an ex-colonist is the “right sort of person” to be entrusted with such grave responsibilities.’

  Jeff’s mobile face ran a gamut of the lugubrious, skeptical, or censorious expressions of his various detractors and had the Rowan in whoops.

  ‘Be glad you’re stationed on Callisto,’ he assured her and then turned his attention to more pressing matters: such as showing her how much he had missed her.

  Which was why she was pregnant now despite the fact that a Talent of her scope and strength was able to affect certain bodily functions. She had forgotten – well, neglected – to affect the possible outcome of the evening’s pleasures. The two children – this one, by the Rowan’s choice, was female – would be close in age, yes, but the Rowan and Jeff would make certain that they were close in affection as well: another fringe benefit of strong Talent when properly directed.

  Rowan! Jeff’s urgent call reached her as she was feeding Jeran his supper. Even her name was colored with excitement – and more. Mother wants me to come out to Deneb. Something’s troubling her. She said you and Elizara had a hint of it, too, just before Jeran was born. Do you remember?

  Suddenly the Rowan did, though she had given the incident no further thought, being involved in maternal duties.

  Elizara felt something but couldn’t define it. Any more than I could beyond anger and pain. At the time, Isthia thought it wasn’t even human.

  I’d better go and see what I can hear.

  The Rowan gave a mental snort which Jeran picked up, regarding his mother with rounded eyes and a certain babyish pout of anxiety. She soothed him on one level and responded to Jeff on another. Your mother’s got the ‘long ear’.

  Which, in her son, has been considerably refined, sharpened, strengthened, honed, and is completely operational. Maybe now is the time to pester Isthia to train properly.

  Jeff returned to Callisto the following morning, arriving by his own gestalt with the first batch of inbound drones.

  Hi, darling. Where’ve you stashed our son? Ah, with you. Look, I’m going to bathe and eat, then I’ll join you. I’m twelve hours behind Callisto’s day. His buoyant mental tone reassured her that whatever Isthia had ‘heard’ could not be of any urgency.

  Jeran was asleep when Jeff reached the Tower. She continued her grab and thrust, keeping the generators at a high peak. He waited to join her until she had handled the outward bound freight. He brought up cups of the sweetened drink she liked, handing her one, kissin
g her forehead, before pausing to stare down at their sleeping son, a doting expression on his face.

  ‘He doesn’t look like anyone in my family,’ he remarked and not for the first time.

  ‘He looks like himself, Jeran Gwyn-Raven. Well?’ She regarded him over the rim of her cup.

  ‘Well, I don’t know what upset my mother,’ and he perched on the console, one arm across his chest, the other supporting his cup. ‘I didn’t hear a blessed thing. But Rakella said she did, too, and Besseva Eagle, who’s been ninety-eight per cent accurate in all her precogs, thinks there is trouble on its way to us.’ He made an immense circle with his free arm. ‘Immense trouble.’

  ‘The beetles wouldn’t come back for more. Would they?’ That would account for the anger and pain I felt.

  ‘Beetle anger? Beetle pain?’ Jeff was close to laughter at the suggestion. ‘Though they might well have been annoyed at the loss of two advance assault vessels. However, from what the specialists have deduced to date, they had a hivelike societal structure – our merge saw eggs in the ship, remember, and we found hundreds in the space debris – at various stages of larval development for different types of beetles. Hive societies don’t tend to emotions: workers, drones, queens, whatever, do exactly what they were bred to do.’

  ‘Yes, but there was sentience of some sort directing the three vessels that attacked Deneb. That oversized beetle we saw in the protected inner chamber of the ship? The queen. Could it have been intelligent enough to direct the others?’

  ‘Hmm. Tactics did change,’ was Jeff’s grudging admission.

  ‘Beetles tend to be tenacious,’ the Rowan added, though ‘tenacity’ was certainly more of a trait than an emotion.

  Jeff shrugged. ‘They can come back, angry, hurt, or merely tenacious, any time they care to have more of the same. And when they get anywhere near the perimeter of League Space, alarms will ring all over our sphere of influence.’

  ‘I’d’ve chalked it up to prenatal nerves,’ the Rowan went on, still trying to analyze the faint emotions she had perceived, ‘except that Isthia heard it, too.’